#ghost conductor phantom

[trappednyourheart]

DCxDP prompt#3

Train station Au

Danny phantom conductor Au

So every one is doing this cool prompt and I decided to make a decent one for now,

where the batfam are taking a vacation instead of a private plane they decided the old fashioned way...they will be riding a train( first class tickets obvi-)

And every one is literally packed even Alfred is wearing a very decent clothes not just his suit for work every day at the manor.

So everyone is waiting for the train because it comes at midnight and when they get at the station they were the only ones there.

And Tim is like: are you sure this is the right Station or time

And Steph the one who book there tickets at an online app: umm yeah we just need to wait for a few minutes the Phantom train?

She said the trains name quite confused but didn't question, apparently many people(Ghost) start coming at the platform, maybe also riding the train, well it was midnight so they didn't really see how they look like,

Thankfully the station had everything they need actually there was a decent convenient store that needs online pay, and a very nice comfy sits when waiting the train to come,

Alfred has a suit case needed medkits,towels and etc,(I don't know how he fit everything in that old Luggage but better than ever)

Tim has it usual his phone,laptop coffee and a few pair of pajamas and headphones

Steph anything she could put in it

Jason might be the last one to be sitted since his suitcase contains a whole dam set of tools...

And Damian? I don't think I want to know what's inside

And duke, Bruce, Cass and even dick are just cool.

Ok that's part 1

_ _ _ _ _ _

[goatlings-stims]

Phantom Maestro stimboard

x | x | x

x | x | x

x | x | x

[ieilaf]

Phantomous view

The silly

[ladychandraofthemoone]

🚂✨

✨Sparkle Sparkle ✨ 

Here’s my version of the train goddess herself!! I was inspired by a lot of incredible people here!! She wears much more friller and way more fancier outfits and hairstyles this was my first attempt on her (Because I always project, I made her Afro-Latina 😊)

 (Yes, she and Smudger are dating, hence a bit of his colors scheme like green orchids and jewelry on her palette. They wear matching clothes 😊🥺I have so many things to say on this ship which would be separate) ✨💚

💖Lore Below:👇(slight tw: for dark themes)I’ll probably add more later 

Her real name is Diantha, no one on Sodor knows these, the only few who do know were/are the former and current ghosts/spirits(ex. Smudger, Kyle, Adeline, the ghost gang/trio), help create Gold Dust but since it spread across the island (ex to protect everyone, her being attacked after the incident plus the more formerly aggressive spirits like the ghost trio making their own dust after it’s tainted from their negative emotions, mainly their envy, jealously complex desires of vengeance)

She usually stays at the Shining Time Railway/Magic Railroad but acts as a guardian/keeper/holder to not just the Gold Dust but every humanoid since she was the first sentient creation unknowing to humans as she was seen as a myth and then everyone else follows soon after, watching over them and doing her best to protect them despite her having to stay in Shining Time, making sure they don’t die from serious accidents that happened, becoming more common later on..

That was fun…

She’s extremely powerful, from making plants sprout back to life, and grow when she’s around to healing anything with her golden tears, teleportation, levitation, anything. After the TATMR where it’s the scientists attempting to capture anything magical, specifically Lady for their nefarious and malicious purposes. Let’s just say it’s involved a Project technology like- humanoid god vs a actual goddess who still looks to be in her early 20s in human years curbstomp battle one was victorious but at what cost..

Before the attack, Lady managed to play keep away but after one unfortunate incident involving Stone,Boomer, D10, and Routh, she escapes long enough to return back to her realm before falling into a coma. Her spirit, however is in limbo and manages to still look over while she attempts to heal herself despite her regeneration as the Project did a number on her. She’s still very much powerful but not to her full abilities 

Does not view herself as above the others due to her holy status (ahem cough cough Alfred Godred cough cough) and remains kind,humble and wise beyond her years despite looking youthful(she doesn’t appear to age) but can be absolutely ruthless towards her enemies especially if they harm her loved ones (ex.Smudger, her fellow spirits friends like Tino (Timothy) Kyle (Proteus) & Adeline)

Speaking of, she has been trying to be the peacemaker between the other spirits and attempts to help them make peace with their demons to help them gain another second chance, it’s more of a guiding attempt which falls flat with the ghost trio at first since pre-Alfred and Godred kept demanding to return back, she beats them too many times to count 

Takes Kyle on as a apprentice after he comes to Sodor, was slightly shocked but very accepting on the circumstances of his spirit roaming on and connected to the lamp, much to formerly Alfred and Godred’s chargin, one of the few to still refer to him as Kyle instead of Proteus since he likes to try and feel connected to one of the few shreds of humanity he had left

Speaking of, she does help other helpers/guardians which were accidental, folks with a pure heart and welcoming intentions(like the conductors and the stones), Kyle was on the other hand was gifted a bit of magic by Lady to help ease his pain and sorrows and help him, is currently teaching Kyle who tends to stay at the narrow gauge lines to be near Stanley and acts like a guardian angel alongside Lady, who trusts him enough to have him watch over them

Is currently looking for ways for help them regain their lives back or make them understand what they did wrong to see if they’re worthy of being given life once again (ex. Kyle is the only one who was unable to be seen or hear by anyone living except for the other spirits who can interact with the living, helping Smudger during his time as a generator since he was also in limbo and might’ve ended up making him immortal like her)

Most of her materials like clothes or weapons are made from gold dust, and she tends to wear more simple clothes whenever she’s was interacting with others (a disguise), however her eyes which are always sparkling and have pink irises plus her hair always flowing about like Princess Celestia, it’s becomes rarer these days (she was researching more on Tino and Adeline’s deaths, hoping to help them get their justice from their murderers and ensuring the remaining get punishment)

In Sodor, she would be living in a cottage after she regains her physical form back (with Smudger later on)on what folks like to call Muffle Mountain, where it’s impossible to reach her and easy to get lost, the only who can reach her are her close companions where they are guided with golden whistles she has gifted them…we all know what happens next do we?

[shinyspooks]

DpxDc prompt based on a dream I had;

Heroes across the country are getting kidnapped by a ghostly star themed train. Yet, despite the vanishing of several heroes, crime doesn't suddenly go up. Criminals and supervillains are still being caught, but no one seems to know by who.

Meanwhile, on the train, the kidnapped heroes are faced by a small floating girl who calls herself Challenger... who apologizes for taking them away from their duties, and tries to assure them they'll be returned to their respectful places once her mission is finished. Alongside her, theres a brooding train conductor, who never sticks around long enough for anyone to get a good look at, but that one or two of the younger heroes claims he looks like a teenager like them.

Whats actually happening, you may ask? Simple. Princess Dani Phantom, alongside Knight Dan, are trying to find one Prince Danny Phantom, heir to the Ghost Kings throne... and currently under a curse, that makes his protection obsession take over entirely.

Their plan here is to either wear him down by giving him too many places/people to protect... or to lure him to the train via giving him people to save. Whichever way, its important that they do so in a timely matter, as Phantom has not changed back in days due to this, and its starting to take a toll on his health...

[galacticsabc]

Warlock idea I randomly came up with one night. They are a ghost train conductor, and their patron is the phantom express.

When the conductor uses Power Word: Kill, the foe hears the train in the distance. As they turn around every which way to try and find it, the train never shows up even though the whistles and chuffing get louder and louder. Only when it's too late does the train appear, taking the foe with it.

[honimello]

The Phantom of the Opera

Chapter One: Angel of Music

Papa Emeritus iii/Terzo x afab!Reader

Summary: A darkness lurks within the walls of the Opera house. It slinks through crawlspaces and watches you through your dressing room mirror. On the night of your first showing as lead soprano, you find yourself doubting your talents. Unbeknownst to you, the Phantom is watching, and it knows your pain. (1,700-ish words, I'm sorry it's so short lol)

Story Warnings: Age-Gap (Reader is well into her twenties), Vague Stalking, Voyeurism, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Slight Flirting, Eventual Smut, Canon Divergence for both Ghost and Phantom of the Opera, Vampirism

A/N: Phantom of the Opera AU! with (Vampire) Terzo as the Phantom, Sister Imperator (Mary Emeritus) as Madame Giry, Primo and Secondo as the owners of the Opera house, and Copia as the Opera Conductor. My Phantom!Terzo Design

The halls of the Opera house were alive with the sound of feet and bodies rushing around, with voices cutting through like a knife in butter. Shouts of stage directions and strings of curse words are the only things you can discern from the inside of your dressing room. It’s an hour before showing and you’re the lead soprano; not by choice really, you were an understudy to the previous girl but of course she had to fall ill a week before opening night. You knew the songs, as well as all the choreography, but you’ve only ever played minor parts or were a stagehand in other shows. If you were being honest, no amount of rehearsals could ever make you feel ready for this. 

No matter what Signora Mary has told you of your talent and stage-worthy looks, you just can’t quite believe her. You have always been the understudy, the minor role, the one hidden away behind rows of other more important performers. Your father had passed away, leaving you alone in this world but not without promising you a Guardian Angel. You had yet to see or even hear this supposed Angel, your patience--and quite honestly, your faith--was wavering. Despite this tragedy, you had been taught theater from a young age, after Signora Mary took you in. It wasn't until your eighteenth birthday that you started performing at the Opera house. It’s been years since then but the fear of failing continues to creep in.

Your chest rises and falls in quick succession, and it doesn't take long before hot tears are streaming down your face. There was no Angel, no guardian or even a little guidance. Without your father you felt lost; there was nothing Signora could say to help, nothing anyone could say. The pressure building in your skull doesn't help as a stagehand knocks incessantly on your door. “Signorina,” He calls out in a shrill, hurried tone. “Signorina, are you in there? We need you on the stage!” Just hearing this makes you sob harder. I’m not prepared. I can’t do this. You try to calm yourself down, to stop the onslaught of insecure thoughts but nothing seems to work. 

As you stare into your eyes in your reflection, you are unaware of the other set of eyes on you. The eyes on the other side of the mirror, the ones that seemed to be drawn to your form no matter where you were in the Opera house. He couldn’t help himself from watching, from following and longing. You were the only thing that had caught his attention within the last 30 years of his unofficial exile, rotting within the walls of this washed up Opera house. He had grown gaunt and ghastly over time, his clothes hung from his frame like sheets thrown over antique furniture. He was barely a person anymore, just a whisper of a long lost story roaming the halls. Yearning for something, anything really, that would bring him purpose again. 

He remembers the fire, the way the embers rose from around the only home he’d ever known. A group of people, who dared called themselves carriers of God's will, had set fire to the Opera house in the hopes of killing the “blood-thirsty demon” that starred in many an Opera. He remembers when they had cornered him after a show one night, he remembers the way the ropes sliced into his wrist as they left him to burn in the catacombs of the Opera house. The fire scorched his skin but it could never kill him, even the starvation couldn't kill him. Nothing could, not since he’d been assaulted in a dark hallway of the Opera house when he was just a young boy. He wasn’t quite sure what he was, but he knew he wasn’t human anymore. 

He could hear the blood pumping in your veins as he watched you from the other side of your dressing room mirror. He could smell that sweet aroma, the one that was unique to you and you only. The little breaths escaping your painted mouth were loud in the small, quiet space between your mirror and the walls he now stood in. He could see the desperation on your face, there were tears building in the corners of your eyes and you kept running your hands over the top of your hair- careful not to ruin its pristine style. He watches you with a wistful expression, remembering his first show as the leading man. He wonders if he should call out to you, what would you do? Would you scream and run like so many others before you, or would you listen to him? He knows the stories everyone spreads about him, the Phantom that haunts the Opera’s halls. A feeling of jealousy and anger settles into the pit of his stomach, people used to come from far and wide to listen to him sing! How could it be that now people are so afraid of him… Ah, yes, he had died.

He watches your little sniffling visage for a few more seconds before he silently clears his throat, it has been a very long time since he's spoken to anyone. A whisper leaves his full lips before he can stop it. “Oh, il mia tesorina…” He cannot quite recognize the voice that flows from his own mouth and it makes him sad for all the years that have been stolen from him, but not for long because the expression of surprise--perhaps, even wonder?-- that crosses your face at the sound of his voice takes his own breath away.

“A-angel?” Your pitiful little voice squeaks out, and it makes him chuckle.

“Heh, no, tesorina mia, an angel I am not.” He lets his hand come up to rest on the one-way mirror, just over where yours has now laid itself. You can't possibly see him, can you? Despite this fact, your eyes meet his almost eerily, and he begins to question if maybe it's himself who should be scared. For who could meet this Phantom's eyes if they were not an Angel themselves? “Why would you think such a thing, piccolina?”

--

You stare into the mirror, only meeting your own eyes but an underlying feeling of being watched by someone other than yourself permeates. When the voice calls out to you, you practically jump out of your own skin. The voice was heavy like lead but glided through the air like silk, it sent shivers down your body and made a home deep in the pit of your belly. Its resonance reminded you of your late fathers dying words, An Angel of Music… But when you call out to it, it dismisses your original thoughts. 

“Why would you think such a thing, piccolina?” It calls out in question and you suddenly understand… Could this be The Phantom of the Opera? This realization makes your blood run cold. The same Phantom that has been appearing in front of performers and scaring the wits out of them just before a show, a telling omen of bad luck. The Phantom must notice the sudden strike of fear in your expression because he sighs behind the mirror, seemingly disappointed in your reaction. “I will leave if you wish, tesorina mia…”

You stay silent, unsure of what to say, and for a second you think he may have left already but his rumbling voice calls out once more. “I have heard you sing, and watched you perform, piccolina… You will do wonderfully tonight.” A new set of tears build up in your eyes, never before has a stranger complimented you so, it makes you wonder how long he’s seen you perform. Before you can ask just that, you hear him mumble something else in his mother tongue. 

“Temo che tu sai l’angelo di noi, piccolina.” You are still learning Italian, as you and your father were not Italian, but you can pick out some of the things he said. It sounds like he's comparing you to an angel. Before you can thank him or even ask for his name, another sharp knock resounds from your dressing room door. This one is different though, one that is much more familiar to you.

“Ragazza! Esci subito, farai tardi!” The voice of Signora Mary reaches your ears from beyond the thick oak door that separates you. You can picture her pretty face scrunching up in that familiar scowl, age has done nothing but good for her looks. You have always admired her, for her presence and beauty, she is like no other you have realized as you've grown. While she can be shrill and tough, she has taken care of you and loved you like her own even though she didn't need to. 

“Ah, Signora Mary…Vai avanti ora, piccolina.” The Phantom whispers to you, urging you to go to Signora. You stand up in a rush and hurriedly make your way to the door, heaving it open with one swing. As you predicted, she is scowling down at you but you can tell she's not really mad, just worried for the show and you, of course. 

She holds your hand as you both jog through halls of stagehands, understudies, side characters and the like. You were the first to be on stage as rehearsed, but now there is no dread. Somehow, your interaction with the Phantom had quelled your insecurities and you felt more prepared than ever. As you stand, upstage and proud, the thick velvet curtains pull aside slowly and bright, warm lights shine down on you… There is no fear in your voice as the music quietly begins to drift in, you take a deep breath and begin to sing.

Think of me, Think of me fondly…

When we’ve said goodbye…

Remember me, Once in awhile

Please, Promise me you’ll try…

--

Poorly Translated Italian

Signora/Signorina: Madam, Miss

Il mia tesorina/Tesorina mia: My little darling

Piccolina: little one

Temo che tu sai l’angelo di noi, piccolina: I’m afraid you are the angel out of the two of us, little one.

Ragazza! Esci subito, farai tardi!: Girl! Come out now, you are going to be late!

Vai avanti ora: Run along now

[aethertetsuya]

Otherworldly Engagement

Jon and Danny are engaged.

Krypton was falling apart. Its the end of their planet.

When Jor-El and Lara were preparing to place Kal-el (Clark) on his ship, one of their projects came online. It's a portal. Out came Clockwork with a deal. Safe passage and a bright future for Kal-el in return, their grandson would be engaged to his ward. As an added bonus, Jor-El and Lara may continue their existence in Clockworks lair but must remain hidden from their son until such a time when their reappearance would not cause disaster to the timeline.

For the parents, it was a no-brainer (sending your child to the unknown and dying yourself or a shady deal that would ensure all your survival)

A deal is made.

And so begins Jor-El and Lara's Netflix and Chilling life in CW's lair. Watching Kal-el (Clark) live his live until Jon was born and until a certain halfa was targeted by the observants.

Danny becomes the Ghost king, his parents accept him, and a giant anti ghost comet is hurtling toward earth that, if not stopped, will cause mass level extinction. The JL big hitters are off world dealing with Darkseid or some other agent of Chaos. *This was the Ancients at work. CW is the conductor*

Amidst the chaos, Phantom and Superboy collide with each other, and Jon decides to help Phantom with his plan. He also got the remaining JL members to help build the intangibility machine with the Fentons.

Long story short. Phantom Planet without the Danny/Sam ending. Jon was there for the reveal (the other JL members were manning different terminals for the machine)

When the dust settles. They become best friends, but Jon is still not revealing his true self, afraid that Danny will no longer think he's cool if he knows he is only half an alien.

He talks to Damian about this and just got called stupid. If he really likes the guy and he knows the others secret identity, then he should too.

Finally, Jon makes up his mind. He's gonna do a reveal to Danny and ask him to be his boyfriend.

Knowing how cool Danny's parents are, he does a reveal to them first, and they are immediately on board with having him as a son-in-law. He asks Damian, Sam,Tucker, and Jazz how to do this.

Their Idea: Picnic on the moon with fireworks

Damian is watching from the Watchtower and is live streaming it to Sam, Tucker, and the Fenton Fam in Fenton Works Living room. It is at this moment that Superman returns with the JL from their deep space mission. He asks who superboy is with, and Damian just says "your future in-law, the Ghost King"

Superman panics, but just as he was about to interrupt the two, he gets tackled by Jor and Lara. "Son, your mother and I love you very much, BUT you are NOT ruining this" says Jor-el. Lara just nodding in the background.

Flash runs to grab popcorn while Dianna, Bruce, Hal, and Jonn sit by a couch made by Hal. Their too tired to do anything since there seems to be no threat.

On the screen, Danny excitedly says yes, and the two share a hug. Floating and spining on the moon.

"Robin, cue fireworks" says Lara.

---I did this in 30mins with barely a percent knowledge of DC. Needs refinement ---

Can people add to this? Spread the word, please! 🥹

[red-ropes-of-avalon]

All I Wanted Was to Be Loved For Myself

Chapter 1- Angel of Music

Phantom of the Opera! Nanami x Christine!Reader

Author Notes: Nanami and Reader are around the same age, not the weird age gap in the actual Phantom of the Opera. 

The auction in the abandoned opera house was solemn. The few bids caused little noise, while the most common noise was coughs from the settled dust. “Lot 665 then ladies and gentlemen.” A collector’s music box, it piqued Gojo’s interest at that moment. “A paper mache music box, in the shape of a barrel organ. Found in the catacombs of the opera house. In perfect working order.” The announcer had wound up the box letting it play its eerily beautiful song. “Shall we begin at 20?” The room had not a single bid, just a small cough. “Fine then fifteen?” The announcer said with an exaggerated sigh. Gojo raised his number for the bid. While 2 others bid against him, Gojo eventually won. “A fine piece Vicomte Gojo. Thank you, sir.” As Gojo looked over the music box his heart was filled with longing, a faint memory of the girl who had told him all about that very music box. “Lot 666- the broken chandelier. Now some of you may recall the strange affairs with the supposed ‘Phantom of the Opera’ the ghost of this very opera house. It was never known if this monster truly existed but this is the chandelier supposedly involved in that famous disaster. We have worked hard to restore it and add in new wiring for electrical lights. Perhaps we can shed some light and frighten out those ghosts from so many years ago.”

You were stood on the side with your fellow dancers dressed in flowy outfits for this scene of Hannibal. When Mei Mei hit the highest note of Rome, you all flowed out dancing in synch and singing beautifully. Shoko was on one side of you, a new girl on the other side. The scene was cut abruptly when Naoya the male lead sang Rome incorrectly, to which Gakujani the conductor stopped to yell. “No, no, no! You must enunciate Rome.” As Naoya and Gakujani argued Shoko simply rolled her eyes, rehearsal was long enough without Naoya being unable to pronounce Rome correctly. Mei Mei was the most annoyed and having him hold her hand for his higher notes, her face spoke entirely to her displeasure with Naoya. However, you had no time to watch her face as the ballet portion followed immediately and you were not getting yelled at by Yaga for being distracted. Following the big ballet, the pinnacle of the act was reached as the ensemble behind moved forward to begin singing. Of course, another fluke with Naoya occurred as the sword got stuck. You swore you heard him mumble something about cheap props and by the look on Shoko’s face, she did too. “Maybe if we didn’t have to pay you and Mei Mei an arm and a leg each we could have better props,” Shoko snarked.

“We are running that again from the top.” Gajukanji shooed everyone from their spots. You crossed the stage amongst the dancers though not without catching a nasty side-eye from Mei Mei simply from crossing her path. Still, it was better than passing Naoya who would push you and then delight in mocking you for falling.

“As you can see gentlemen our rehearsals for this season’s production, Hannibal are well underway,” Ijichi spoke as he led 2 men through the theater and to the stage. Trying to gather the cast’s attention was always hard for Ijichi. Yaga instead banged his foot, gathering the attention and causing silence for Ijichi. “I’m sure all of you have heard rumors that I’m retiring. I can put the rumors to rest today, I am in fact retiring.” Ijichi was always so timid despite being the owner of the opera house. “But these are the new owners, meet Monsieur Sukuna, and Monsieur Uraume.” The two men side by side couldn’t be more different. One looked like a bull of a man, and the other looked delicate enough he could be one of the dancers with you. “Monsieurs this is our prima donna Mei Mei. We’ve had the pleasure of having her as our leading soprano for 12 seasons now.” Mei Mei seemed to preen under the attention.

“I've heard you have an amazing voice, Miss Mei Mei. I know there is a wonderful aria in this production. Would you care to sing for us?”

“I don’t do any excess work for free Monsieurs.”

Sukuna barked a laugh motioning for Uraume to give the women some money to incentivize her.

“Ah, now Gakuganji would you do me the honors.”

“Is 2 bars sufficient Miss Mei Mei?” To which the woman gave a dismissive handwave. As the woman was singing she was clearly engaging the 2, strutting her stuff and proving just why she was the leading soprano for so long. As she reached the end, the backdrops for the other scenes fell from the rafters. It cut Mei Mei short, obviously startling the woman. Among the cast whispers of the phantom’s doing were spreading.

“Where is that stagehand? Haruta why would you drop the backdrops?’ Ijichi was clearly nervous, more than he usually was.

“I didn’t, I wasn’t even up there sir. If there was someone it would have to be a ghost.” The blonde’s response just spurred more phantom murmurings.

“It’s an accident. Things happen they probably weren’t tied well enough,” Sukuna dismissed.

“These aren’t just accidents! This has been my life for the last 3 years! I should not have to worry about my life whenever I rehearse. No amount of money makes this worth enduring! I am leaving, either sort that out or I will be finding a new contract.” Following her little tirade Mei Mei stormed out. Naoya sneered at the 2 men before storming out behind the woman.

“Sirs a note for you was found in the rafters,” Yaga handed the men an envelope with an ornate wax seal.

Dear New Owners of My Opera House,

I welcome you to my opera. I am sure Monsieur Ijichi has established with you the rules of how this opera house works I shall give you them in writing. You are to leave Box 7 empty for me and my salary is to be paid on time. I will not tolerate it being late. I hope the best for you in my opera house and look forward to our collaboration.

Best,

Opera Ghost

“A salary?” Sukuna almost wanted to laugh, a phantom demanded a salary.

“Ijichi used to pay him 20,000 a month, though with the Vicomte sponsoring you.”

“We can return to the matter of a ghost’s salary later. Who is the understudy for Mei Mei?” Uraume tried to soothe the situation by diverting.

“There is no understudy for Mei Mei.” Gakuganji balked at the insinuation.

Seeing no volunteers Shoko dragged you forward, “she can do it. She’s been taking lessons.”

“This little dancer girl? Tell me your name girl.” Sukuna intimidated you and Shoko wouldn’t let you disappear back into the cast.

“Y/N L/N.”

“L/N, tell me are you perhaps related to the famous cellist of the same name?” The way Sukuna’s voice was tinted with intrigue did you little comfort.

“Yes sir, he was my father.”

“Very well then, sing, show us if you are good enough.”

Very timidly you began to sing Think of Me, and while it seemed Uraume still held his doubts Sukuna was sold, despite your nervousness. Meeting Yaga’s eyes with his firm glare you began to open up more. Gaining a false confidence simply to avoid Yaga yelling at you. It seemed that was what sold Uraume on your ability, that or Sukuna’s insistence.

The performance was sold out and while you were nervous you were also excited. All eyes would be on you for the first time ever. Having the heavier costume on was an odd feeling, the weight of the skirt and how restricted you were compared to the ballet costumes. Wringing your hands deeply and taking a deep breath, you exited your dressing room to wait in the wings for your cue. By the end the packed opera house was applauding your every move and every note.

After bowing you exited offstage where the ballerinas quickly encircled you giving you praise. They were gossiping though just as quick after, something about the new owners with another man in their box. “You did well Y/N. I’m sure he will be impressed,” Yaga said placing a hand on your shoulder. You guess you had zoned out listening to them chatter and Yaga had pushed through the group of girls. “As for the rest of you, that was a pitiful performance. We must rehearse now, your feet were too flat and not enough bend in your knees. Y/N go get your costume off there’s nothing for you to fix.”

Seeing as you didn’t need to rehearse with them anymore, which was odd to say the least, you began the walk back to the dressing room you were given. In the hall an eerily familiar voice echoed, “bravo, bravo, bravissimo.” You felt yourself go pale at the words walking faster to the room.

Sitting yourself down in the room you let out a sigh. Seconds later Shoko enters the door, obviously having ditched rehearsal. “You were amazing out there. Where did you learn to sing like that?” Shoko quickly sat herself beside you and took your hands in hers. “Oh dear your hands are so cold, and you look pale.”

“I’m fine really. I was taught by a mysterious Angel of Music.”

“Who’s the Angel of Music though?”

“My dad he said when he passed he would send to me an Angel of Music, so that I will always know I am loved.”

“That’s weird but whatever you say. Don’t worry I’ll get all the gossip from the ballerinas and we can keep making fun of the rest of the cast during rehearsals.” Shoko was rambling again, she probably missed you in the wings.

“So this is where you snuck off to Shoko. You are still a dancer and therefore you still need to rehearse.” Yaga stormed through, obviously annoyed that Shoko had disappeared. Shoko shuffled off unhappy to have to part without talking to her best friend more. “As for you, I have a letter.” Yaga handed you a pristine letter swiftly before disappearing after Shoko to watch the ballerinas.

[dreamin-gacha]

Random little redesigns

Aoi

Remade her school uniform. She’s a water elf whose still new to using her powers. Swim team captain. She’s very cautious and uses her water powers to keep herself safe.

Eve (Before Reborn into an angel)

Experimented on, so lots of bandages and she also can’t see in her other eye. Xavier use to do her hair and put red bands in them.

Eve (Current)

Eve is know a guardian Angel and she’s always looking after the city and makes people into ghosts to help their loved ones.

Phantom

Conductor and composer of the most beautiful classical music and is actually well known. Wears a lot of Victorian like clothing.

Cindy

Represents fairytale and happy like dreams. Less people have been having them tho and she doesn’t know why.

Magy

Actual reaper and has more gothic elements. She’s also an assassin because Neon City has lots of those because it’s Neon City.

[disneyparksattractionstournament]

Disney Parks Animatronic Tournament Match ups: Round 1

Should start tomorrow!

Bracket A/Tier 1:

Hondo Ohnaka vs Beast

Davy Jones vs Disco Yeti

Lava Monster vs Kylo Ren

Anna (Hong Kong version) vs Mr. Potato Head

Jack Sparrow vs BB8

Stitch vs Hopper

Lumiere vs Sven

Belle and Prince Adam vs Tiana

Stunt Spiderman vs Clawhauser

Wheezy vs Tiki Room Stitch

Rocket Raccoon vs C3PO

Shaman of Songs vs Elsa (Hong Kong version)

Ursula vs Lieutenant Bek

Dragon under castle vs Olaf

Hatbox Ghost vs Lantern Belle

Albert vs Dwarves in Mine Train

Bracket B/Tier 2:

Madame Leota vs Fantasmic dragon/Murphy

Giant from Sinbad's Storybook Voyage vs Swedish Chef

Finale conductor Sebastian vs Big Al

Roger Rabbit vs Br'er Porcupine

Dreamfinder vs Constance Hatchaway

Redd vs Munchkins

Skippy vs DJ R3X

Singing Geese vs 1900 Patricia

Daisy Duck vs Mary Poppins

Trixie vs The Five Bear Rugs

Jack Skellington vs Carnotaurus

Buzz Lightyear vs John

Aladar vs Zazu

RX-24 vs John Wayne

Max, Buff and Melvin vs Teddi Berra

Iago vs Panchito

José vs Uh-oa

Sun Bonnet Trio vs Br'er Raccoon

Figment vs Little Leota

Horned King vs Roz

Malestrom trolls vs Donald Duck

Abraham Lincoln vs Q’aráq

Statler and Waldorf vs Gene Kelly

Marshmallow vs Wicked Witch of the West

Will Rogers Jr/Lasso cowboy vs ExtraTERRORestrial Alien

Farming bunnies vs Frank

Timekeeper vs VR Grandma

Luggage Scanner Droids vs Railway end Mickey

Scuttle vs Bean Bunny

S.I.R.(Tim Curry robot) vs Liver Lips Mcgrowl

Buzzy vs Phantom

Ellen Ripley vs Sonny Eclipse

Bracket C/Tier 3:

Hitchhiking Ghosts vs Blue Fairy

Mr Bluebird vs Hag with apple

Richard the pineapple vs Sea Serpent

The Muppet Penguin Orchestra vs The Lost Safari

Horizons Robot butler vs Girl with goose

POTC Donkey vs Goat with dynamite

Jessica Rabbit vs Tiki room birds

Evil queen in window vs dancing Ariel

Puffins vs Mickey Mouse Review Alice

Little Red vs Unnamed laundry girl

Computer engineer woman/Foxy vs Indiana Jones snake

Hula Girls vs Disappearing butterfly

Splash Mountain finale chickens vs Sauropod

Tiger with umbrella vs Br'er Fox and Bear end scene

Donald's butt vs Drunk hats stealing pirate

Xenomorph vs Sally

Drew Carey vs Figaro

Rover vs Nemo seagulls

Exercise Patricia vs Tiki room Jose

Rosita vs Small World hippo

Darla vs POTC prison dog

Beating heart bride vs Barnstormer chickens

Boothill Boys/Vultures vs Ballroom dancer ghosts

Pansy, Poppy and Petunia (Splash opossums) vs Pig pirate

"Here kitty kitty" pirate vs Evil queen turns into hag

Skeleton ship pirate vs Small World cowboy

Singing birds of paradise vs Primeval World diorama

Jungle cruise elephants vs Barker Bird

Uncle Orville vs Granny ghost

Carlos' wife vs Energy dinos

Rabbit family with carrot vs jungle cruise hippos

Dirty foot pirate vs FSU gopher

[trappednyourheart]

DCxDP prompt #3 part 2

Train station Au

Ghost Danny conductor

(basically Dannys became a ghost conductor and human conductor at the same time, at midnight his a ghost conductor and at daylight he's a human conductor for mortal beings(humans) and we see the batfam booking for midnight accidentally so you know what's going to happen next LOL)

Previously-

As they wait for like 2 hours for there train, it finally arrive...

PA: Good Afternoon Passengers(ghost) of Gotham, Your 11:30 Train will arrive in 2 minutes please check your belongings and companion with you always to not lost any important Trinkets in your journey riding The phantom express! And always keep your heads intact *giggles*.

And after that speech there train alive and not going to lie, it's absolutely beautiful like c'mon the batfam imagines it's like a futuristic train with the insides like a hotel! And they bet at the other class of the train is already A Sweet deal for other people..

(It's basically the train shapes into whatever they think it looks like so if Alfred likes to remember the old trains back in the 90s? Or whatever year it will revert into that style.)

As they went inside it look so cozy and decent (for once) and then Danny shows up!(hurray!)

Danny:umm excuse me are you all human beings?

Danny asked

And there like: what?..umm yeah or course

https://www.tumblr.com/trappednyourheart/724326589542924288/dcxdp-prompt3?source=share

Danny: oohh...well doesn't matter sorry to bother you, will you please give me your ticket so I can punch it..you guys are going to an beach huh? Don't worry there's a station in that location so we could just drop you all of there, so now please enjoy your stay at the phantom express!

After that Danny left( he's panicking-)

Part 1 here

[saraicus]

The Phantom | Morpheus x F! Reader

Warning: Sexual content, with a splash of angst 

Requested by: Anon 

Notes: Thank you anon, for the request. I love Phantom of the Opera <3 I’m following both the book and movie for the inspiration of this one-shot. Also, it may not perfectly follow the material, because it’s an inspiration and not a direct copy. Yes, I do reference the sequel, “Phantom of Manhattan” in the end. Sue me, jk please don’t. 

If you'd like to be a part of “The Sandman” tag list, just ask me! Requests are open.

Word count: 4.6k 

Masterlist

The bright sunlight glistered against your eyes as it peeked through your curtains. Slowly, your eyes began to open with your hand blocking the daylight. You began to stretch your body on the bed and sighed. Your joints cracked with slight soreness in your muscles lingering from last night's rehearsal. Everyone was anxious about the grand opening of Hannibal, especially after it was revealed you would sing an opera solo. Weeks of endless rehearsals were finally going to pay off after the prima donna decided to quit the production due to this mysterious opera ghost, who she was afraid of. Contrary to popular belief, you were never scared of the opera ghost; instead, you wholeheartedly believed the opera ghost was your angel of music. After all, your father promised to send you an angel of music after he passed away. While performing your rehearsal of the aria last night, you could see your angel of music’s silhouette in the corner of your eye from box five. You had yearned for your angel of music to reveal themselves, but that moment never came. If only, you knew that day would come soon.  

“(Y/N), is everything alright?” asked Lucienne, as she was helping with your hair, “You seemed quiet.” You looked in the mirror to see her brushing the tangles out of your hair; however, you remained silent. Lucienne sighed and began to style your hair with the bright crystals pinned to your hair. “You know, I heard someone special was coming over to attend tonight,” Lucienne explained while finishing up your hairstyle, “Remember Corin?” You smiled softly when she said the name, Corin. The man with striking blonde hair and the bluest eyes would make anyone swoon. Your childhood sweetheart, Corin, became the sponsor of the opera house, however, you were always afraid to acknowledge him because if you were to recognize him then your angel of music would disappear. Regardless, your love for Corin never disappeared, despite haven’t seen each other in decades. “I do remember him, and it’s nice to know he’s attending the opening performance of Hannibal.” You replied while looking at yourself in the mirror again. Lucienne helped you up, as you slipped into the white dress and began to lace your corset. A knock echoed from your door with someone saying you had three minutes left before you had to go backstage. Lucienne sighed and made you face her, “You’re going to do wonderful, I can promise you that.” Lucienne stated before kissing your forehead. A slight smile appeared on your face, as Lucienne held your hand to take you behind the stage.

Your stomach began to twist and turn, and your knees quivered from nervousness. Your breathing turned shallow as you could feel the corset tighten around your waist, with your mind swirling. What if your performance doesn’t please your angel of music? What if your angel of music doesn’t come to attend your performance? A mental battle that began to hold a tight grasp on your brain, until a stagehand snapped you out of it and guided you to the stage. Claps from the audience filled your ears, as the lights began to shine against your dress and hairpins. The music for the aria, “Think of Me” began to play, and you locked eyes with the conductor, to which the conductor nodded their head. You closed your eyes and began to sing the opening of the song. “Think of me…Think of me fondly, when we’ve said goodbye,” you sang gently while opening your eyes again, “Remember me, once in a while. Please promise me you'll try.” You could feel your heart beating fast; however, you knew you had to stay strong for your angel of music. Your face began to soften as you continued to sing to the crowd, and your voice echoed from the stage to the house. Your voice never quivered; instead, you began to gain more confidence as the song continued. As you were singing, Corin smiled at the sight of you and whispered to himself, “Can it be, can it be (Y/N)?” He rose from his seat and began to applaud. Corin left his seat to meet you in your room and began to whisper to himself, “Long ago, it seems, so long ago. How young and innocent we were. She may not remember me, but I remember her.”

As the aria was ending, you took a deep breath before completing the song with your arpeggio. You closed your eyes as you hit the high notes of the song, to be met with the audience raising from their seats and clapping. Your heart began to beat faster from the adrenaline from performing, and you just smiled at them. Quickly, you took a short bow before leaving the stage to be greeted with your co-stars’ smiles and clapping. Lucienne appeared in front of you and grabbed your hand to guide you to your room. “You did wonderful, my dear,” Lucienne said as she opened the door for you. You walked over to your vanity filled with perfumes and makeup products to see a single red rose tied with a black ribbon bow in the middle. Your fingers hovered over the flower, as you pulled your chair to sit down. Lucienne left the room, and you could hear people shouting your name and a glimpse of men holding bouquets for you. You softly smiled as you heard Lucienne scolding them to leave you alone, before closing the door behind her. You shifted your attention to the rose and held it between your fingers. The silk ribbon was soft to the touch, and the pearl was glistering underneath the lights of your room. After a moment of silence, you heard a knock on your door, and before you could stand up, the door opened to reveal Corin. You smiled at the sight of him as he began to say, “Little Lotte let her mind wander. Little Lotte thought, “Am I fonder of dolls? Or of goblins or shoes?”’ You rose from your chair to hug him, and replied, “Father playing the violin. As we read to each other the dark stories of the North.”

“No, “What I love best,” Lotte said “Is when I'm asleep in my bed,” he whispered as you pulled away from the hug. “You sang like an angel, today (Y/N).” You walked over to your vanity again with Corin following behind you. “My father told me, he would send me an angel of music when he’s gone. He’s gone, Corin.” You whispered while looking at Corin, who was smiling at you. “I’ve been visited by the angel.” Corin laughed at your response and said, “No doubt, about it. You should change, I’m taking you to dinner.” You shook your head and rose from your chair. “I shouldn’t, the angel of music is strict.” Corin turned around and waved away before saying you should be ready in two minutes. You called out his name, but it was worthless as he closed the door, ignoring your pleas.

Sighing, you turned around to remove your dress and changed into a white cotton long-sleeve pajama dress with a white silk robe. As you were tying the robe, the lights from your room shut off. “Insolent boy, this slave of fashion! Basking in your glory.” a voice boomed inside your room, and you turned around to search for this voice, “This brave young suitor is sharing in my triumph!” You looked around your room and realized your angel was angry. Your heart began to beat quickly, and as your hands trembled by your side, you replied, “Angel, I hear you! Speak, I listen, stay by my side, guide me. Angel, my soul was weak. Forgive me, enter at last, master.” The room turned silent, until the voice boomed once more, “Flattering child, you shall know me. See why in the shadow I hide, look at your face in the mirror. I am there inside!” You looked in your standing mirror to see a tall pale man wearing a black outfit with a distinct white mask covering half of his face. “Angel of Music. My guide and guardian, please grant me your glory. No need to hide, come to me, strange angel.” You pleaded as you walked closer to the mirror. His hand went through the mirror as he stated, “I am your angel of music, come to me.” Corin had returned to get you, just to hear the man’s voice. He could hear the man pleading for you to enter through the mirror. Corin began to bang on the door and called out your name. However, you ignored Corin and focused on the man in front of you. With no hesitation, you placed your hand on top of his. The man pulled you through the mirror and began to guide you through the hallway that had arms holding candles to light your way. The light from the candles makes the appearance of your angel more visible. His slicked hair was black as coal; his skin was white as the snow, and his lips were red as roses. The mask covered the left side of his face, piquing your interest. “In sleep, you sang to me! In dreams, you came. You’re the voice that calls to me.” You said to him, as he was guiding you along the hallway, “Am I dreaming? For now, I find the Phantom of the Opera is here.” 

“Talk once again with me, our strange duet. My power over you grows stronger yet, and though you turn from me, to look behind. The phantom is here.” The man spoke, before guiding you down the stone stairs leading down to the dungeon. “Those who have seen your face draw back in fear.” You said once more, as he led you to a boat. Carefully, he helped you sit on the boat as he led the boat. “It's me they hear, the phantom of the opera.” He said as you looked up to see him glancing down at you. “Come with me, my angel of music.” The boat slithered through the river, leading to a spiked gate that rose. Looking around the room, the river led to a slab of floor that was filled with covered mirrors placed in a specific order, candles, and a musical organ. He stopped the boat and got down to pick you up to place you on dry land. You didn’t say anything to him; instead, you began to look around from where you were standing. This was his underground lair.

“The night-time sharpens and heightens each of your sensations. The darkness stirs and wakes the imagination. Silently, your senses abandon their defenses.” The man said as he walked up the small steps the floor had, removing his cape and motioning you to follow him. “Slowly, gently, night unfurls its splendor. You could grasp it, and sense it. Turn your face away from the garish light of day; turn your thoughts away from cold, unfeeling light.” He grabbed your arm to spin you and grabbed your waist. His gloved hands slowly crept up your soft curves, as your head lay against his shoulder. “Close your eyes and surrender to your darkest dreams! Purge your thoughts of the life you knew before.” He whispered against your ear, his lips slowly hovering against your skin. “Close your eyes, and you'll live as you've never lived before. Let your fantasies unwind, in this darkness which you know you cannot fight.” You closed your eyes, as you allowed him to lower your robe. “Let your mind start a journey through a strange new world! Leave all thoughts of the world you knew before. Let your soul take you where you long to be. Only then can you belong to me.” He commanded as he turned you around, face to face, and you looked into his eyes. “Touch me, and trust me to savor each sensation! Let the dream begin; let your darker side give in. You alone can make my song take flight and help me make the music of the night.” Your left hand slowly touched his cheek, as you stared into each other's eyes. What does he mean, music of the night? Your eyes took in every facial feature he had, his sharp nose, sharp jaw, and the lingering touch of his hands against your waist. However, it was his eyes that captured you the most, his pale blue eyes shining from the candlelight nearby. The eyes that held memories, told stories, and most of all, showed his true intentions.

“Music of the night?” You asked as his eyes lowered, his fingers gazed up and down your back as he placed his forehead against yours. “Do you not want to make your angel of music happy?” He whispered, before laying his head against your shoulder. “Submit to your inner desires, my angel. Let us make the music of the night.” His hands cradled your face; you fixed your gaze on his lips as he tilted his face to lean forward. Closing your eyes, your lips touched his lips, and your hands landed on his shoulders. His hands slowly moved away from your face to place them on your hips; he pulled you closer to him, deepening the kiss. His hands move to caress your butt, firmly grasping them. One of his hands moves underneath your thigh to hitch it against his hip; you broke the kiss and looked up at him in awe. With no struggle, he picked you up and took you to his bedroom. It was like a tunnel from the lair, the walls, and floors made of rock; but there lay a black wooden bed frame in the shape of a peacock. As if you were a doll, he laid you against the red velvet sheets and got on top of you. Your heart began to race, and your knees were wrapped around his hips. His right hand grabbed your wrists to pin them over your head, while his left hand began to swirl around your chest, playing with the buttons. His eyes looked up into yours, then he asked, “May I?” You took a shallow breath, before nodding yes.

“I want verbal consent.” He said in a cold tone. You cleared your throat and tried to find your voice, but after witnessing everything, it was hard. His hand tightened its grip against your wrist, and you whimpered, “Yes, you may. Please, my angel of music, please me, and I will please you.” His lips twitched a smile, as his left hand began to slowly button the front of your pajama dress. After the four buttons were opened, he raised his left hand to remove the glove with his teeth before lowering his left hand again. His soft hands slowly pushed away the fabric to reveal your breasts; his thin fingers swirled around them, as your breath sharpened. His eyes were focused on them, and then he lowered to kiss them softly. Biting your lip, your back arched as his lips attached to your nipple to lick them gently. Your voice began to crack when you felt his teeth slowly graze it, before pulling it. He let go, and his left hand began to lower down to your crotch to hike your dress. His fingers reached over to remove your undergarment and slid it down to your ankles. The cold air breeze against your skin, making you shiver; he looked at you and kissed your forehead. He let go of your wrists, but you stayed still, not knowing what to do next. He removed his other glove with his teeth, removed his coat, and began to unbutton his shirt. You saw minor scars from his chest but were too scared to comment on them. You didn’t want to upset him, in any way. His pale skin was bright from the light surrounding the room, and you could see his lean physique. Your eyes lowered to his pants but looked up when you heard a soft chuckle.

He leaned forward again to kiss your neck, his plump lips fluttering around to leave short kisses. Your hands were still stuck in position, making him smile; his hands grabbed your wrists, and he whispered, “You can touch me, it’s fine.” You nodded, and your hands began to touch his arms. You giggled softly as his lips left short kisses, then his lips began to lower to kiss your collarbone. His tongue swirled around the bone and left kisses, while his right hand shifted to hike your dress again. You gasped, as you felt his fingers circle your slit; you could feel his fingers going up and down, creating this unusual sensation. You tried to hold back your whimpers, until he said, “Do not hold back, my angel.” With his permission, you gasped and whimpered as he slowly entered a finger inside. Your hands grabbed the soft red velvet sheets, as the first finger curled inside you, making your eyes close. With caution, you felt another finger enter; you choked on your whimper and let out a loud mewl. He whispered a shush, as you could feel the pad of his thumb touch your nub, your legs consciously wrapped themselves tighter around his waist, and you couldn’t stop yourself from rocking your hips against his hand. He stopped kissing your collarbone, and instead laid his head against your chest to enjoy your sweet noises. Your left hand raked through his hair, as your right hand continued to grab the bed sheets. You could feel his fingers going in and out of you, creating a lewd sound as your juices began to leak.

“I…I feel…” You managed to breathe out, “M-my angel…” He shushed you again and continued to play around with your crotch. There was a feeling in the pit of your stomach that began to form, and you began to tighten around his fingers. Your legs began to move around with no control, your breathing began to get shallow, and you looked to your right to see him staring at you with his eyes slowly blinking. The feeling began to get stronger, and you couldn’t control the lewd noises you were making. Before you were able to hit the climax, he removed his fingers and placed them against your thighs. You were struggling to breathe from what was happening, and you looked at him with wide eyes. “W-why?” You choked out, your body was slowly shaking from what you were experiencing, and you wanted to feel it again. He raised himself and began to unbutton his pants, your eyes fixated on his crotch. You could see a clear tent from his pants. Could it be? Were you about to lose yourself to your angel of music? “I want us to give into our inner desires.” He said in a soothing tone, “Together, as one.” As his hands pushed down his pants, you looked to see his member, making you gasp. Your blood began to rush to your cheeks as he leaned forward to touch your cheek and caress it.

He grabbed your hips to pull you closer to him; your eyes widened as you felt him against your crotch. Your arms were on each side of your head, as he leaned forward to place his left hand next to your head, and placed his right hand with your left hand. “Now you are here with me, no second thoughts.” He whispered to you, as his right hand moved to grab his erection, “Have you decided?” Your eyes looked deep into his eyes and nodded. “I’ve decided.” You replied, “The past before no return.” He echoed back the phrase and smiled at you. You gasped as you felt him against your slit; his forehead lay against yours, as he slowly entered inside. You closed your eyes and began to take deep breaths. He groaned softly as he was fully inside; he didn’t move an inch as you were getting used to the strange yet pleasurable sensation. You could feel the pain beginning to dull, so you looked at him as a signal to move. He began to thrust inside you slowly and gently, making you moan. His right hand grabbed your left wrist as he began to form a rhythm. You saw, he closed his eyes and his face twisted in pleasure. His eyebrows furrowed, his lips parted, and his eyes sealed shut. Your voice echoed throughout the room as you could feel yourself losing to your inner dark desires. Your free right hand dug into his back, as he continued to rock his hips. Slowly, your hand grabbed the back of his head to pull him towards you, his eyes open to realize what you wanted. He leaned forward with his lips mere inches away from yours, a short pause to breathe in each other’s air before clashing them together. The kiss began to get rough as you felt your teeth clashing against his teeth, yet you wanted more.

Your hand never left the back of his head, until you broke the kiss to breathe. Still, he never lost his rhythm; rather, he began to quicken his pace. Looking at each other again, he let go of your hand and wrapped his arms around your torso to place you on his lap. His hands held the back of your thighs, as you wrapped your arms around his neck. This new angle made you let out a sweet little cry, which was music to his ears. Your left hand tangled into his hair as your right hand was placed on his shoulder, with your forehead touching his forehead. You could feel your body getting warmer and the familiar feeling was forming in the pit of your stomach. You flung your head back as the thrusts became deeper, and he was squeezing your thighs. Your legs wrapped around his torso and pulled him closer. He began to let out low, rough grunts as his thrusts began to falter. “M-my angel…” You said in a high voice, “I can feel…” He groaned before saying something you didn’t think you would hear. “M-Morpheus, your angel of m-music is named Morpheus.” He said in a raspy tone. You cried out his name, and your fingers began to dig deep into his back. “Morpheus, my stomach…” You whined, then you could feel his lips press against your collarbone to soothe you. Morpheus shushed you once more, as your legs began to shake. “Morpheus!” You screamed out, and the knot in your stomach burst. It was as if time slowed down for a moment, and your vision turned blurry. His thrusting turned sloppy until he too cried out, and you felt something pulsing inside you. You began to whimper from the stimulation, and Morpheus laid you down on the bed again, gently.

Your body shivered and you felt him slip out of you. Your eyes searched for him, but your eyes began to involuntarily close, and you tried to fight the urge. His voice echoed in your ears, “One love, one lifetime.” Your eyes shut, and you fell into a deep slumber. When Morpheus saw you fall into a deep slumber, he got off the bed to place the bedsheets on top of you and kissed your forehead after putting on his clothes again. You dreamt of nothing, and everything was silent. In fact, when you opened your eyes, you found yourself alone. Your stomach twisted because you thought he had left you forever alone until you heard soft music coming from the other room. You fixed the dress you had on and walked to the other room to see Morpheus playing around with the piano. With no rush, you walked over to him and placed your hands on his face. He leaned back in response to your touch, enjoying the touches. As your fingers lingered by his mask, you said, “Whose is the face in the mask?” When the mask was removed, he screamed as his hand covered his face, and shoved you to the ground. You hit the floor with your head hitting a piece of furniture. “Damn you, you prying Pandora!” Morpheus shouted as he walked away from you, he faced a mirror and removed the cover. “Now you can never be free!” You saw the left side of his face had a large scar that went from the chin up to his forehead. He began to walk around his lair while throwing down books and pages, screaming, “Curse you, can you even dare to look or think of me?” Your eyes began to fill with tears, as you rose from the ground. 

“This loathsome gargoyle who burns in Hell,” He cried out while covering his scarred face, “But secretly yearns for heaven…For…” Morpheus’ eyes flicker to you, as you raise your hand walking toward him. He began to walk backward until you whispered his name. Mere inches away from each other, you placed your hand against his hand that was covering his face. “Morpheus, my angel.” You whispered, as you softly tugged his hand away from his face. Morpheus stood still, as you tugged his hand completely off his face. His eyes lowered until you lifted his chin to look at you. “My angel of music.” You said to him in awe, “I see no demon in front of me. I see an angel.” Morpheus looked at you with disgust and huffed. “You’re lying. I am the demon of Hell.” He said in a monotone voice. You closed the gap between you two and cradled his face. “From what I’ve learned, demons were once fallen angels. Do you not agree that angels are beautiful?” You asked while caressing his scarred face, “To me, you’ll always be my angel of music.” Before you could kiss his lips, he pushed you away and grabbed his mask. 

Morpheus fixed the mask on his face and turned around to see you trying to blink back tears. “Come, we must return to the opera house; they’ll be looking for you.” He stated as he helped you down the lair steps. With a broken heart, you followed him into the boat and sat down. The ride back was quiet, as you wanted to express that you were now in love with your angel of music, despite his scars. When you reached the hallway, he held your hand; but it wasn’t a firm grasp as before. Before you slipped back into your room, you turned around to face Morpheus, your angel of music, for the final time. “When will I see you again?” You asked while looking at him. “You’ll see me soon.” He replied in a cold tone. Before you could lose your chance, you immediately kissed him on the lips and blurted out, “I love you, Morpheus, my angel of music.” Morpheus stood still from the kiss and cleared his throat. He nodded and kissed your forehead before leaving you behind. Your heart ached in pain, as you saw him leave. With sorrow, you entered your room and lay on your bed. “Oh, Morpheus.” You cried out as tears began to spill out, “I will always love you.” You hoped to see him once more, the angel of music, the phantom of the opera, and your lover. Until then, all you had were faint memories of that night to hold on to. Those memories were embedded in your mind, forever. Morpheus would return, as he promised. But the aftermath of his return was rather gruesome. The only thing left of his identity would be the kid he gave you, on that fateful night. A son named Pierre.

[hootbun]

So your saying I could sell my soul, JUST my soul, nobody else's and free let's see uhhhhhhh okay so there is the root pack that's 3, then flowey- er, cagney, hilda, goopy, that's six now uhhhhh there's cala Maria, brine beard, uhhhhh the German mouse guy, Sally stageplay, the genie dude, dr khals robot, that's 12 and then uhhhhhh there's phantom Express which is 5, the ghost with eyeballs on his hand, those two weird lollipop guys, the skeleton conductor and the train itself, not including the passengers, that's 17 and now uhhhh I feel like I'm missing someone... oh yeah the bee queen and bon bon von that's 19 oh and ribby and croaks which makes 21 oh oh oh and the bird guy and his son that's 23 uhhhhh I thinks that's it. Ok so basically you are saying that I can exchange my soul, aka just ONE soul and then I can free roughly 23 souls, I feel like I'm missing someone but you get the point. Do I make myself clear???

[cookiewarriorexpert]

(Submas and ghost MASHUP TIME! I might do one about being phantoms of the opera!)

The Train Phantoms (Yan! Phantom! Ingo and Emmet x Conductor! Reader)

🔞

No good, you thought when you were promoted to Subway boss fulfilling your dream of conductor but a bad thing happened that day, a secret that now you must keep for the innocence of the passengers.

Phantoms, two phantoms haunted the subway, scaring staff and people alike no matter the time, as a Subway Boss you must make sure that their presence is unnoticeable by passengers making up lies.

“The Lights were getting fixed.”

“Some mechanics are taking a look at one of the railroads.”

“Oh! Our employees take routinely checkups.”

It was hard but you managed to keep the passengers blind to the hauntings.

But you then saw them, two figures staring at you but their faces weren’t visible but you knew that they stared at you, but no one saw them only you that day.

But the next day, you received a letter and a small box with sweets. That’s how it was for the next few months.

A letter with a box of sweets that are your favorite but they’ll maybe shake it up and instead of sweets, your favorite snacks or a cake that was decorated in a way that you haven’t seen on the internet or even other bakeries.

The letter’s contents might be different everyday, some tips for being a good conductor, a warning about certain people doing things that will definitely get them ban from the Subway, and maybe a long poetic letter saying a lot of things from complements to even things that were unhinged and make you blush uncontrollably.

It was like two people were in on the letters and gifts, so you were watching everyone’s moves determined to find the admirers, you jot it down to the staff but almost all of them either were currently dating or they were already married, but the very few who weren’t dating were just uninterested in love at the moment or they didn’t know how to express it.

So that led you back to square one, but you also had frustrations with the phantoms that haunted the station, the sightings of the phantoms were lessening, but now only staff were seeing them, going when no one was there, some few even reporting they go in or out of your office.

What were they doing? They didn’t seem to move anything, were they possibly giving you the letters and gifts.

Nonsense! You scoffed.

You soon found yourself getting close to a man that was obviously interested in dating you.

But then he disappeared without a trace, you were obviously hurt thinking that he was just using you for your popularity. So you threw you back in your work to forget about him and it did until you fell sick.

But when you woke up in your bed you saw that a bowl of hot soup and a letter was with it you read it, it was the admirers, and they sound displeased when they mention your date, and they sounded like you cheated on them even though you never even dated them, but they forgive you and warned you to not dare anyone else and they’ll soon meet you in person.

You felt a little shaken up about the claims but you ate the soup and you felt better when tasting it.

You were careful around anyone who were interested in you, not wanting them to date you, for you were suspicious that the two people were probably the ones that made your last boyfriend disappear.

But with the phantoms they seem to increase and now everyone was on their toes, reports were flooding but they all said the same thing.

You needed to get them to stop, and by that you needed a way of communicating with them.

So you ordered everyone in staff to go home and that you’ll work overnight.

Everything felt empty the moment you locked the doors, you walked the hallways, not a sound, not even a chitter of a pokémon dare to make a sound.

You began to make your way to your office, you took off your cap and rubbed your eyes, tiredness wasn’t going to take your chance to see the phantoms yourself, not even seeing them ever since you saw them on that day.

You sat in you office, awaiting their presence, but seconds felt like minutes, minutes like hours, hours like days.

You felt your eyes narrow themselves and tiredness started to close your eyes until you saw something in the corner of your eyes, a figure walking close to you, you cocked your head to see a person in white, you took a step back surprised.

“Your hat is tilted! Got to look verrrrrrrry professional.” Said the figure as he grinned.

“Are you one of the Subway phantoms?” You asked feeling your voice was in fear.

“That’s what they call us! But you can call me Emmet, and you must be verrrrry desperate to make us stop from doing our job as Subway bosses.” Said Emmet.

“Us? Who’s the other person?” You asked.

“Oh! Ingo! His name is Ingo and he’s right behind you!” He giggled.

“Greetings dear, I apologize for not introducing myself must feel spooked seeing my brother and I.” Said Ingo, you jumped and saw the man in black.

“Ah! Sorry, but I really need to ask you to stop appearing, passengers are starting to get scared and the staff are getting nightmares about you two. What do you two want? I can do my best and provide it if it’s something that you really desire it.” You offered, desperation was in your face, the two looked at each other, Emmet grinned excitedly while Ingo nodded, like they were speaking telepathically.

“What time is it?” Ingo asked.

“Umm, 12:56, why?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

Emmet instantly grabbed your arms and pinned you to the wall as he grinned widely.

“We want you~” He said as he went closer to your face.

Click*

You looked up, handcuffs, you looked at them, Ingo was locking the door and covered the windows as Emmet was positioning you on top of your desk carefully to put up the numerous files and papers.

“Perfect~ We are going to have a verrrrrry delightful time together.” Said Emmet as he unbuttoned your shirt and revealing your bare body, you swore you never saw such excitement in a ghost’s eyes.

His arm extended to your shoulder, grabbing it and made you sit up on your desk, he instantly went to your neck and began to suck on your skin, you felt yourself breathing heavily as emmet made his way to your lips.

Ingo made his move, gently groping your breasts as he began to take off your pants, you felt his gloved fingers playing with your entrance a tiny bit before catching you off guard with a sudden speed inside your entrance.

Emmet also took this as an opportunity to capture your mouth, shoving his tongue down your throat as he quickly overwhelming your tongue with his impatient one.

Ingo then picked you up away from Emmet who was staring at your panting lewd face, you were quelling your thirst for oxygen only to have ingo shove his face into yours, emmet quickly slithered his tongue into your entrance licking every corner clean, you moaned loudly and screamed their names for the entire time begging for more as you cried from overstimulation.

But your pleas for letting you rest were falling on deaf ears, your begs for more, well that’s something they’ll do.

Bite marks, scratches, bruises, hickeys, even cuts were all over you by the time they were done, and when they were they just backed away as they took off the restraints, you sat up and try to walk on the ground only to limp and depending on your desk like you were wearing roller skates.

They seemed so smug about it, your surprised and shocked face with heavy breathing as your bare body was covered in their marks along with your messed up uniform and a tilted hat covering half of your face.

That day you called in sick and left for home as quickly as possible covering yourself and washing your clothes as you bandaged all of their cuts and bruises.

You sat on the couch while questioning all of your life choices, you wondered why the phantoms would be suddenly attracted to you, you were just the subway boss, a conductor. So what was the answer? Maybe the phantoms were attracted because you were the top boss of the gear station, they were wearing a uniform that was similar to yours, maybe they had an unfinished desire, to be the strongest of the gear station.

Or maybe, just maybe they wanted vengeance on their tormentor.

But for the past few days that you call in sick people never saw them, passengers and staff were both relieved. The staff questioned you on what did you do to keep the phantoms at bay, but you were very vague.

But from that day forward, they made a contract with you, in exchange for them being at bay, you must stay an entire night with them, and let them pleasure you.

Not that you were uncomfortable with it, you were more surprised by this, two phantoms wanted you? Some people would have called you crazy if you told them what has happened for the last month.

It soon became a regular thing, you came at night and fulfill their desires, but if one or two depot agents were still stubborn about staying, then the phantoms will haunt them tenfold, well it’s mostly Emmet who does the scares for the thrill, Ingo just demand their departure.

But one night, when they were following alongside you, you asked them.

“Why are you here? It’s not every day that a phantom linger around for long, so there must be something that keeps you down here.” You said.

They stopped, Emmet and Ingo looked at eachother.

“My darling, there is something that is keeping us here but problem is, we don’t know who killed us.” Said Ingo, Emmet looked angered and frustrated.

“Okay well if you were the subway bosses, then there is a chance that the archives of the gear station contain at least some information or footage.” You said, you instantly grabbed their sleeves and dragged them to the archives, they didn’t speak against your action.

“Here it is!” You said as you opened the doors, files, too much files. You quickly went to the subway boss section and searched for them very carefully, they just stared at you.

You picked out their files, they looked over their files, you snickered at the amount of incidents that emmet caused.

“Wha-! You overflooded a train with joltiks?!” You said.

“I had to stay the night to find every joltik because they were getting ready to get the generator, Emmet ended up getting a scolding from me along with our parents.” Ingo added, Emmet only blankly stared at you two, he soon sulked in the corner, you snickered.

“Aha! Your death date!” You said.

“Isn’t it be kinda offensive if you said it like that?” Asked Ingo.

“Sorry, but! Since it’s your death date I can search up the footage and we can catch the tormentor! You can finally Rest In Peace.” You said as you wrote down their death date, Ingo only stared as Emmet was narrowing his eyes.

You quickly gone to the main control room and gone through the footage around the time, until you saw it, their killer.

A blonde dude, dressed in blue and yellow, he looked like a wanderer. Ingo and Emmet looked at the footage with zero distractions.

The man first acted like he was in trouble trapped in a railroad, Ingo and Emmet quickly grabbed his hands only to get dragged down while the man got out, ingo and emmet then got run over by a train.

The man only walked away while people and depot agents were panicking about the death of their subway bosses.

You only looked shocked and confused while Ingo and Emmet looked angry, Emmet had a terrifying smile.

“So it is him. I knew it all along!” Said Emmet as he slammed the desk, Ingo didn’t try to calm him down.

“So what do you do to your tormentor once you catch him, curse him?” You Asked but you regretted your question when you saw the look in their eyes.

They wanted his blood.

“That is one of many options a phantom could do, but it seems that we agreed on one option, but we need to track him down, before he does this to you even.” Said Ingo making Emmet perk up.

“Oh yes! Please let us control you! It’s the only way that we could ever act on him! We can’t do anything that involves almost everything but if we have a willing host we could control their actions, please!” Pleaded Emmet as he tugged on your jacket, you felt conflicted, but if it was the only action they agree on and possibly pass on……

“Fine, I agree to be your host, but be sure to not get caught.” You said, Emmet’s and Ingo’s eyes lit up, Ingo thanked you and Emmet claimed to be very careful.

They soon walked into you, you felt like a bus had hit you, you looked at your hands, you felt fine.

‘Hello darling~!’ Said Emmet, you looked around.

‘You’re in my mind? Don’t read my thoughts! Only this once Emmet, Ingo I’m not letting you do anything!’ You Thought.

‘Wow you have a vivid imagination.’ Said Ingo, your face turned red immediately.

‘WHAT DO YOU MEAN?! ALOT OF PEOPLE CANT HELP IT!! DONT DO THIS TO ME! INGO AND EMMET I WILL BEAT UP BOTH OF YOU GUYS INTO NEXT SUNDAY!!’ You thought.

For the next few days, they were adjusting to your body, taking control on random occasions, and when they do you only think while they speak through you and do things that you don’t normally do, your body acts like them.

Example, you saw a couple doing some things in the subway tunnels, Ingo took control and now the couple were banned from the subway.

Someone was about to attack you, Emmet was ready to brawl, so when the person tried to hit your face, a strong grip got them, your surprise face turned into a sadistic grin.

“Don’t attack in this station, otherwise things are going to be verrrrrrrry bad for you.” Emmet said through you, the person was caught off guard but they still punched you only to end up getting kicked in the stomach and knocked out with chop on the neck.

A lot of people recorded the battle, the comments were hilarious about it freaking out while others made memes.

There was times where the brothers would fight for control, pokémon battles, incidents, even when you try to shower.

You avoided any reflective surface for when you looked in the mirror you see them right behind you.

But then the day came, you heard a cry for help and when you approached the figure, it was him, their killer, they were silent but you knew what they would do.

He reached out for your hand only for your hand to grab his collar, he saw that your face was twisted into a smile and a frown while your eyes turned silver.

“You really thought that we would let you free after you killed us? No, verrrrrry wrong, now go and rot for eternity, oh look your final destination.” They said in unison along with you, he looked terrified but they dropped him, he looked in horror as a train’s horn was screaming out but he was too late, the train ran over him.

Thankfully no one was around, they were all focused on their devices and those who did see it they were horrified but they thought it was that you didn’t save him in time, an accident.

You went home, you didn’t feel them controlling you, no strange presence, you gone to a reflective surface, they weren’t behind you.

You sighed in relief, but you were a little disappointed a bit, you did have fun times with them, but as you locked the door and took off your clothes to change into some pajamas, your arm stopped, you tried to move it but instead it grabbed your neck and squeezed it gently.

You were caught off guard, they didn’t leave? But how?

You heard your door twisting until it unlocked itself, footsteps were heard, and they opened the door, you looked shocked.

Why were they breathing? They had skin and their uniform!? But how? Why were you still? They weren’t even in your body.

Emmet’s arm was acting like your controlled arm, Ingo stepped closer until he pushed you to your bed and handcuffed you quickly.

Emmet let go, your arm now was restrained, Ingo narrowed his eyes as his gloved hands was touching your neck then ripping off your clothes.

Emmet grinned widely as he happily tore off your pants to reveal your entrance, as soon as it was revealed he didn’t care whether you were in pain or not because he just shoved his entire hand and began to rub harshly.

Your eyes rolled back from the pleasure but you were about to scream when Ingo captured your mouth with his, exploring every corner while playing with your breast.

But soon they explained, apparently they tricked you, they can kill their tormentors but they will pass on, but if they kill while with a willing host, they can have a second chance and their physical bodies will be reborn and they can even change events if they pleased.

So they were erased from the world, they weren’t dead now, they were well and alive like the incident never happened, and they were known as your boyfriends.

You went crazy in your mind, how could they trick you?! Why!? Why?! WHY?! You couldn’t hurt yourself, you couldn’t even plead for help, a checkmate.

They really won this game, and there isn’t going to be any rematches, not even if you pleaded to Arceus. Now you sitting on the couch as you combed emmet’s hair with your fingers.

“We are very happy that we met you, verrrrrry happy indeed.” Said Emmet as he kissed your forehead.

You could only act like their spouse, the only freedom you had was battling trainers in the triple battles. But when it was multi, oh god, Ingo and Emmet are squishing you between their bodies.

You were always desperate to win in the multi battles because if you won with ingo and emmet they weren’t going to punish you, but if you lose, oh nope, they will fuck you up against the ground until they got it out of their minds.

But it was like wanted it more, because you started to see a change in them, purposely losing to the trainers, saying to attack the obviously weaker pokémon making the more stronger Pokémon attack theirs.

You only stare in horror, but your weren’t going to lose, no no no no! Not until your last pokémon falls your aren’t going to lose to a trainer.

You managed to win many battles but when the rare occurrence when a trainer does manage to beat your team, you just look at them with hidden pleading eyes as you congratulated them for their victory along with the twins, just stay a little longer for a bit please!

[archduchessofnowhere]

“With her I experienced the curious feeling of living in today yet being able to reach out and touch the past”

Second and final part of Catherine Barjansky's account of her meetings with Queen Marie Sophie in 1914 (you can read part 1 here). In this part Catherine goes to a strange concert, tells us of Marie's eating habits, and reflects over the Wittlesbach sister's lives while sculpting. Also completely unwarranted Francesco II's looks bashing (we hate to see it):

A few days later my husband and I received a letter from the Comtesse de la Tour, inviting us to accompany the Queen of Naples to a concert in Geneva and to dine with her. When we reached the hotel lobby the Comtesse was waiting for us.

“The Queen will come in a moment,” she announced, and she hurried away. The Comtesse too lived in a phantom kingdom, and the etiquette of a court was part of the fabric of her life.

In a little while the lady in waiting returned with the Queen, the little white-haired Comtesse pattering along with fast steps, struggling to keep up with the long swift pace of the Queen. The latter was dressed as inconspicuously as though she wished to be invisible, in a long black coat, black hat, and black veil. She passed through the lobby like a breeze, a little breath of cold air, and yet eyes followed her as she went because she was so unlike anyone else.

In a dark automobile driven by an old chauffeur, we went to the concert hall. That was a strange concert, for most of the musicians were busy making war instead of making music, and the orchestra had been scrambled together haphazardly. Few of the players were professional musicians; they were unaccustomed to ensemble playing, and they had been inadequately rehearsed. Yet the conductor, though he was manifestly dissatisfied with the result, drew some wonderful phrases from them. He was, we learned from the program, the great musician and composer, Ernest Bloch.

The Queen, stiff and erect it was impossible to imagine that emaciated body at rest listened to the music with closed eyes. And when the concert was over, she hastened through the hall like drifting smoke and into a side street where her motorcar was waiting.

Dinner was served in the small dining room of her suite. While we waited to be summoned, the Comtesse told us that the Queen was accustomed to dining early because she ate only one meal a day. The routine of her life, like everything about her, was strange. Every morning, regardless of the weather, she went out at eight o'clock and for two hours walked swiftly through the streets. Geneva is famous for its disagreeable and severe winds, but they never prevented the Queen from taking her outing. It was almost as though she disregarded the weather, as she did mankind, as unworthy of her notice.

When she returned to her hotel she ate some ice cream. Between three and four in the afternoon a large dinner was served, and again from six to eight in the evening she sped through the streets, as though in swift pursuit of a mirage, the ghost of a queen moving unseen by the people of Geneva. At eight o'clock she ate more ice cream and so ended her curious day.

That day at dinner she sat between my husband and me. The only other people present were her lady in waiting and Mr. Tramontana, her court gentleman, a Neapolitan. These two people had left Naples with her at the time of her exile and had spent their whole lives in her service, creating by their devotion and their sacrifice a phantom kingdom in which the Queen could live.

It was amusing to see what quantities of food this shadow of a woman could consume: soup, steak, vegetables, dessert, coffee. There was comedy in the stately meal and the voracious appetite.

And after dinner I began the wax portrait. She is imprisoned there in wax, the Queen of Naples, with her stiff back; her austere black dress; her long and ghostly hands that will not let go their tenacious hold of what is hers; the narrow feet resting so lightly on a gold-and-black cushion; the strange blue eyes and aristocratic nose; the bitter mouth with its narrow lips; the high forehead with its black braids and imaginary crown.

I did the sculpture with fabrics. The figure sits on an arm chair that looks like a throne, its color a faded red and gold. I covered the body with black velvet and tulle. The background is an old brocade of gray and gold. The face broods, the bitter mouth is unreconciled.

While the wax portrait was gradually taking shape under my fingers, I thought of the extraordinary fate that had been the lot of so many of that Bavarian house of Wittelsbach. As the waxen Queen of Naples took on life and resemblance, I studied my sitter whose kingdom had not existed since Garibaldi united Italy under the house of Savoy, which she hated with a deep, corroding hatred. I thought how strange it was that this hotel, where she had elected to live out her exile, was directly opposite the spot where, years before, her sister Elizabeth had been staying at the time of her death. It was as difficult for me to imagine the radiant Elizabeth of Bavaria, wife of Francis Joseph, becoming old, as it was to picture this gaunt woman as young and lovely. Yet lovely she had been, for many men had loved her. Young too. For she was only nineteen when she had her brief moment of authentic glory. One would think she might, even then, have been somewhat disillusioned with kingdoms, married as she was to a man so ugly that no one ever dared to take his photograph, a King who, in the face of revolt, cravenly took himself off to Rome. But the young Queen Maria of Naples had appeared on the barricades and stood all day long, in the face of whining bullets, encouraging the soldiers, urging them on by her presence.

Modeling the thin lips, that bitter mouth, sterile, devoid of all passion, one could not help wondering how much of that stormy past she remembered and what meaning it had for her now.

These Wittelsbachs certainly were destined to lead violent lives. Empress Elizabeth of Austria had died at the hand of an assassin, and her only son had been a suicide. Another sister, the Duchess Sophie of Alençon, was at one time betrothed to Ludwig, the eccentric King of Bavaria. She was later burned to death in a fire at a charity bazaar.

Each time I came to work on the wax portrait, my husband accompanied me. Arid on one of these occasions we took part in the Queen's evening walk. On our return to the hotel we found two Neapolitans waiting for her at the door. “Long live the Queen!” they shouted lustily. On the long pale face appeared the rare smile that made her nearly human. She extended her hands to the man and woman, who bowed and kissed them. “Long live the Queen!” they shouted again. She smiled once more, entered the hotel and disappeared in the cage of the elevator.

Later I took the wax portrait with me to Rome, where I finished it and so, although in wax, she came again to Italy, which she loved and still regarded as a possession, a piece of property wrongfully snatched from her grasp. She was seventy-four at the time I met her, and after leaving Switzerland I was never to see her again and never to forget her. With her I experienced, as I later did in Egypt, the curious feeling of living in today yet being able to reach out and touch the past.